I feel like there was a good 1-2 year stretch where I practically didn’t talk to my kids unless I was yelling at them. They were 4 or 5 years old at the time and needed to be treated with gentleness. However, we had the same conversations each day. Regardless of how many times I told them, “Put your toys away when you’re done playing with them,” or “Close the refrigerator door after you get something out,” or “stop taking daddy’s truck out for joy rides in the middle of the night,” they would continue to do what I had told them not to do. So I yelled—a lot.
Does that make me a terrible dad? I felt like a terrible dad because I didn’t want to yell at them. Nor did I want to be angry or short-fused whenever they messed up. I want my kids to love me, not fear me.
Don’t get me wrong, I believe we must correct our kids to help them grow and mature. And I realize that our kids (humans in general) need to be corrected over and over again before they finally “get it.” But I had hit a cycle where my approach to their failures caused them to be afraid or angry at me. That’s not the way to train up a child.
Jesus had a magnificent ability to correct those open to change without breaking them down. Despite being the omnipotent God, Jesus had a gentleness to Him. His love and kindness showed through every interaction He had with people, even the people everyone else had given up on.
A gentle defense.
On one occasion (John 8), while Jesus was in the middle of teaching people who had gathered at the temple, the religious leaders brought a woman caught in the act of adultery and pushed her in front of Jesus. “What do you think we should do with her?” the scribes and Pharisees asked Jesus. “According to Moses, she should be stoned. What do you say?” Jesus ignored them.
How would you respond if someone dragged your daughter into your office at work and said, We just caught her having sex with some guy in the parking lot? If you think the two situations aren’t the same, you’re right. Jesus loved this woman more than you love your kids. He would have been more hurt, more disappointed.
A gentle correction.
After trying to ignore the crowds’ ignorant demands, Jesus finally spoke up, “Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her.” With that response, Jesus gently corrected the men who had evil planned for this woman. He pointed out they had no right to stone anyone because they were sinful themselves. No yelling. No condemning. Nothing more than a simple, Yep, the Law states she deserves to be executed. Any one of you who has never broken the Law can start the process.
Jesus opened the eyes of those arrogant religious leaders to the fact that they, too, make mistakes. They, too, are guilty. They were made aware of their faults gently even though they deserved worse. Our kids aren’t perfect. Aren’t’ even close. But neither are we. It would do us great good to remember that as we correct them.
A gentle power.
After everyone had left, Jesus turned His attention to the woman. Being perfect, Jesus was qualified to carry out the punishment her actions warranted. Instead, He forgave. To be sure, Jesus corrected her, “From now on sin no more” (John 8:11). Don’t do this again. But there was no yelling. No condemnation. You see, it was Jesus’ love for her that drove her to do the right thing, not threats of consequence and punishment. In a way, His love was powerful because of its gentleness.
A gentle example for our kids.
The world is a hard place that will do its best to crush your kids. It will be nasty and unforgiving. Let’s do our best to lead and treat our kids with gentleness. Let’s offer correction with kindness and discipline with tenderness. Let our love for them shine through every word and interaction we engage with them. Let our love draw its power from gentleness.
